


Into the Night

by scarletsptember



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletsptember/pseuds/scarletsptember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first they don't realize what's going. Just an odd coincidence that things are moving overnight. Then it takes a sleepwalking Sam to have it all figured out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Oh_Sam comment fic meme and the prompt involved a sleepwalking Sam.

At first neither of them realized what has actually been happening. They’d go to sleep and in the morning things would have mysteriously moved around the room. Sam’s laptop moves from the wobbly table to the foot of Dean’s bed. Their duffle bags are dug through as if someone was looking for something specific. Even the newspapers that Sam fell asleep with ending up in a neat pile next to the television set.

After a few nights of things being moved around, and moving motels each time it happened they gave up. If it was a burglar they weren’t taking anything and if the rooms were haunted the ghosts were malicious.

It takes one night, in the middle of the snowy mountain to have everything cleared up. Sam was sleep-walking. Full on zombie walking and speaking in tongues sleep walking.

Who knows how Sam even got through the locks on the door, much less didn’t wake up from standing in snow but there he was; just standing there.

“Sam!” Dean tugged his jacket tighter around his chest as he slipped on a pair of boots, not bothering to look and see if they were his or Sam’s. When Sam didn’t even acknowledge him Dean let out a growl and trudged through the snow. Sam’s skin was chapped from the cold breeze and Dean didn’t even want to think about Sam’s bare feet. “Sam, dude, what are you doing?”

Sam spun around and started mumbling, mumbling in a language or something. Dean couldn’t understand him but that’s when he realized Sam was asleep. “Oh hell, come on man.”

Dean nudged Sam to get him to start moving to the motel room. As soon as he got the door shut and locked he tackled Sam with blankets and checked his feet in case there was any damage done. Once he was satisfied Dean curled up next to Sam underneath the covers. He rolled his eyes at how god damned peaceful Sam looked. “You’re a fucking freak man.”

~*~

The next morning Sam refused to believe Dean.

“I don’t sleep walk,” Sam bit out as snow crunched under his feet on the way to the Impala. The story Dean told about him out in the snow, in the middle of the night was ridiculous. He might have woken up feeling under the weather but Sam Winchester did not sleep-walk. He had enough problems and sleep-walking would just prove his mind couldn’t shut the hell up long enough to rest or he had some serious problems.

“You do,” Dean slammed the trunk closed. “And you’re lucky I woke up because your stupid sleepy ass couldn’t close a door. You could have gotten frostbite or some shit!”

“Whatever Dean, can we just get out of here?” Sam slumped into the passenger seat and wrapped his arms a little tighter around his chest. He let out a sneeze and grimaced at the pressure in his chest.

“What ever you say princess,” Dean flipped on the heater, “But next motel, I’m rigging the door so I know if you escape cause that shit ain’t safe.”

~*~

The next motel Dean did rig up a system to wake him up if Sam woke up and decided to go for a stroll in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that great of a system but a butt load of empty beer bottles and a chair by the door was bound to make some noise.

The sound of beer bottles toppling over against linoleum and the forceful scrap of a chair had Dean bolting out of his bed and flipping a light on. Sam was lying on the floor, cut up and still asleep. It took Dean maneuvering Sam up off the floor to wake him.

“What are you doing?” Sam muttered out before he registered blood on his arm and the pain. “What happened?”

“Well you see,” Dean guided Sam towards the foot of a bed and waited for Sam to sit before darting to his bag for the first aide kit, “My plan to wake myself up if you decided the room wasn’t to you liking worked awesome for me. Not so good for you.”

Sam looked at his arms and brushed his fingers along the side of his face before he looked over towards the door. He let out a heavy sigh, “Beer bottles. Beer bottles that could cut me? That was your plan?”

“I didn’t have much time,” Dean explained as he dabbed an alcohol swab over the cuts and bandaging Sam up. “Had to think on the fly. I promise tomorrow I’ll figure out something better.”

Sam watched Dean’s face scrunch up in a grimace, “What is it?”

“I think you hit the chair on the way down.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” Sam slapped his hands down on his thighs.

“I mean to say,” Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, “You hit your head on the chair and I need to stitch you up.”

“Oh come on!” Sam flopped back on the bed with a groan. He didn’t complain as Dean worked though. He closed his eyes and took even, steady breaths. “Why’s it always me?”

“Because someone’s got to be the freak,” Dean answered as he threw away the mess he made. He smacked Sam on the thigh, “Move over.”

“Your bed is over there,” Sam pointed to the opposite bed.

“You want the beer bottles back by the door?” Dean asked as he tugged on the covers Sam was holding on to.

“Fuck,” Sam rolled on to his stomach. “Maybe I’ll punch you in my sleep.”

“Sleepy Sam is way nicer than awake Sam.” Dean mumbled


End file.
